The Cinderella Plan (Revved Up Fairy Tales Book 1)

by Diana Flame

  The

  Cinderella

  Plan

  Revved-Up Fairy Tales – Book 1

  Diana Flame

  Copyright © 2017 Diana Flame

  All rights reserved.

  Kindle Edition

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE:

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America, and by extension, Worldwide. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork is prohibited without the expressed written consent of the author. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  https://dianaflame.com/

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Other books by this author

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  About the Author

  Introduction

  Once upon a time in the land of Taucia Cinderella went to the ball and lost her glass slipper... forget that crap.

  This is not your usual fairytale.

  Cinderella is not the girl you once knew. She is not the coward little girl who allows her stepmother and stepsisters to abuse her.

  Meet the real Cinderella, the one with a temper and a feisty disposition, a heroine you will fall in love with.

  In the land of Taucia are seven provinces, which include the kingdoms of Izadel and Padian. The Izadel Kingdom nestles between the Great Hungry Peak and the Forbidden Mountain. Across The Forbidden Mountain is the Padian Kingdom. Once rivals, the two Kingdoms now enjoy peaceful relations. However, with the new king of Izadel, one never knows when that peace will be broken.

  Both Kingdoms speak the same language known as Epinia. Their language is similar to what we know as Early Modern English with some variant to Modern English. It is easy to understand by our standards. If the language sounds exaggerated to you… well it is.

  This is the story of Cinderella, a true tale as seen in the eyes of the storyteller. The Cinderella Plan is Book 1 in the Revved Up Fairy Tale Series and is also a part of the F’d Up Fairy Tale Collection.

  Authors’ Note: Please note that the dialogue is not an accurate depiction of Shakespearean or Elizabethan English. As with the story, the language is fictitious and has been slightly exaggerated for maximum and perhaps comical effect.

  Prologue

  Izadel Kingdom three months prior …

  “Hark ye, hark ye. T’is be an example to all who wouldst breaketh the edicts of Izadel!” The commander of the royal guard shouted to the crowd gathered outside the palace gates.

  Just beyond the high iron gates of the palace was the city square, and beyond, the market place. Far north was the edge of the Black Thorn forest also known as the ‘forbidden forest’ by many. In reality, Black Thorn was more of a jungle, untrammeled by humans. On the opposite side to the south, was Maple Ridge.

  A large crowd gathered to see what the king’s next atrocity would be. The soldiers escorted a man in chains with a hood over his head into the town center. A small platform with a guillotine stood like a monument as spectators watched with wide eyes. There was a hush among the crowd as people stood still, waiting for the horror that was to come.

  Cinderella gripped her basket tightly, and closed her eyes. She had just entered the market to trade her home-made wild oferac jams for food and coins. The commotion had attracted her attention and she drew close to the gathering. Her heart pounded heavily as hatred for King Hughoc caused bile to rise to her throat. The man was evil and everyone in Izadel feared and hated him.

  In that moment, another life was up for sacrifice because of the heinous laws the king had declared. She waited to hear what this man had done to deserve such punishment.

  A woman to her right leaned close, whispering, “Perchance, what hath he done?”

  “I canst not say,” Cinderella replied.

  The man on her left whispered, “I heareth that he went a fetching his goats in yonder field. The prince was riding along and the goat spooketh the horse, thus the prince tumbled.”

  “Wast the prince an injured?” Cinderella asked.

  “Nay, wast not a scratch foundeth on him.”

  Cinderella gritted her teeth. Their precious prince whom no peasant had ever seen up close was the cause of this. What was so special about him that they kept him hidden? There was speculation that he wasn’t even the crown prince.

  Was that the reason why he kept himself hidden for fear the people would not accept an imposter? Perhaps it was the reason the king was so brutal, in order to rule with fear. That way, the people would not rebel against the prince when the time came to prove he was the heir apparent.

  The prince kept himself hidden from those outside the palace. When he rode, a contingent surrounded him at all times and his face remained hidden. This was unusual. Could the prince have some hideous secret they were trying to hide other than the fact that he may not be the real prince?

  When King Reginald passed away, they said his cousin Hughoc raised his son as his own and that the prince would prove he was the crown prince when he turned thirty years old. This he would do by taking the test only a prince could pass.

  However, with all that the current king had done since he took Reginald’s place, the speculations continued with stories that the real prince had long disappeared before the demise of the king and queen. Cinderella did not know much more than what she heard her father discuss, so she could not be certain of the truth. She was only a child when King Reginald took ill. What she did know was that Hughoc was not the kind, compassion king Reginald was.

  Cinderella turned and pushed through the crowd. She would not stay for the disgusting show that was to come. Someone losing his head for no good reason was not entertainment. A lashing could have been appropriate given that the prince fell from his horse, but beheading? That was too much.

  She heard the gasp from the crowd when she was a distance away and knew the show was over. How could people just stand there and watch while they cut someone’s head off? She would never understand or accept it.

  Chapter 1

  A screech echoed through the dense forest, followed by a howl high in the trees. Footsteps crunched the dry underbrush. Long red robe swept the forest floor preceded by high black pointy boots. Tiny animals scurried away in fear of being trampled.

  Golden sunlight streamed through branches. Sunbeams fell carelessly on the dry foliage, resulting in a multitude of colors.

  Isolde journeyed through the forest, her feet smashing the tiny colorful flowers peaking up through the thick undergrowth. Her hatred was like bitter gall, rising to he
r throat. Of one thing she was certain, when her revenge was complete, the taste would be sweet. Her purposeful strides were stiff and jerky as she hurried along the unbeaten path.

  With each step, she imagined trampling her enemy. A squeal came from beneath the leaves as her boot pressed down on a small animal. She stopped and pressed harder, feeling the tiny animal thrash beneath her heel. Clenching her jaw, she continued applying pressure until the sound was no more.

  “Bastmotehrdamnblubery,” she mumbled incoherently, spittle flying from her lips as she continued her journey.

  A deep guttural sound brought her to a standstill. Listening keenly, she pricked her ears to detect what animal made the sound. There were coyotes, wolves and many other wild beasts in the Black Thorn Forest. That was why many feared venturing in. Not Isolde. She was on a mission and nothing would get in her way.

  Continuing on the path, she erased the sound from her mind. It could be any one of a number of animals making that noise. In addition, she was the great Baroness Isolde. She feared nothing or no one… except for that pesky wench, Cinderella.

  The name alone brought an unpleasant taste to her tongue. Cinderella’s face flashed before her, startling her. Stumbling on a dry log, Isolde found herself hurtling forward, landing face down in a pile of dark, mushy matter. At first, she though it to be mud, but upon sniffing, the stench of the murky glob sent her gagging.

  “Blah,” she spat, wiping the shit from her face. Stomping, she cried out, “Why!”

  Cleaning her face with some green bush she pulled from the side, Isolde noted that the dung was not human, nor did it seem like a dog’s. It was huge.

  “Couldst it be a bear?” she asked herself.

  The sound she heard a few minutes ago would certainly be that of a bear. Bears did not frequent these parts, but if it was a bear, she knew exactly how she would get back at that annoying wench Cinderella. Her mind flashed back to three days ago before she started her journey.

  The idea that she was exiled by her own daughter… well not exactly her daughter, but she was a good mother, wasn’t she? The thought brought her blood curdling in her veins.

  “Thee cannot throweth me out, this house belongs to me anon,” she’d barked at Cinderella, but the girl was unshaken.

  “This dwelling didst belong to mine own father and now t’is mine,” Cinderella replied in defiance.

  “Hark ….”

  “Nay. How dare thee tryeth to trade me as a slave? Didst thee bethink t’wast yond easy to rid thyself of me?”

  “I-I-I didst not such a thing.”

  “Thou art lucky I am not reporting thee f’r murder.”

  “What?” she’d asked, tremoring at the thought that her stepdaughter knew the truth. Dread washed over her that her knees buckled as she sank to the sofa. “Of what dost thou speakest? Whom didst I murd’r?”

  “Thou knowest very well of which I speak. I can see it in thine eyes Isolde. Thee has't hath killed mine own father and anon, thee might not but depart this house or I shalt has't thee imprisoned!”

  Of course, she’d poisoned the man, but she would never admit it, especially to Cinderella. Standing to her feet, she held Cinderella’s gaze and straightened her back.

  “I hast ne’er heard of that which thou speakest,” she’d denied, but she knew Cinderella wasn’t bluffing. “I shalt depart because I doth not wish to cause ado.”

  She’d packed her belongings and left, staying at the Cock-a-doodle Inn for a couple of days. That’s when she knew she had to seek the help of someone else in order to take her revenge. Just a little more ways to go and she would be at her destination.

  A prickling feeling on her face made her absently scratch the area. The itching began to spread until she was scratching her entire face and neck. A burning sensation started spreading until all of her face was on fire and her eyelids became leaden.

  “Oh shit,” she muttered, her mouth barely able to move.

  Touching her lips, she was aghast at the enormity at which they had swollen.

  “Didst I useth the dolader leaves on mine own visage?” she mumbled, her voice barely able to push through her lips.

  The dolader leaves resembled grape ivy’s, except the former was poisonous and would take a pungent potion to relieve the effects. She must have mistaken one for the other. Her face throbbed and a dull ache ensued.

  Doubling her fists, she stomped her feet and tried to scream. However, the fact that her lips were swollen hindered that from happening. Barely able to see where she was going, she moved off again. Nightfall was slowly approaching, but the hindrance of not being able to see clearly due to her engorged eyelids obscuring her sight, she knew she would not get to the cave before dark.

  This was not in her plans. It was all the fault of that pesky wench Cinderella. Her anger gave her steps purpose as she trammeled the green.

  “I shall have mine one revenge on thee, Cinderella. I shall!” She tried to say, but her lips refused to move.

  She should have reached Olga’s cavern before evening, but it seemed as though that would not happen. Though Isolde claimed to be fearless, she clearly quivered at the thought of spending the night in a forest with a bear wandering around.

  Chapter 2

  “I shall not attend the ball to impress yond prince!” Cinderella bellowed at the woman before her.

  On this day, Cinderella’s animated conversation caught the ears of those in the house. Standing at the door, curious to hear what was happening was the housekeeper Eliza. Just outside the window were the young lads who tended the animals and worked the field. But before Cinderella was the woman she’d known all her life.

  Lenora was like a grandmother to her. The old woman who lived at the edge of the forest was there for her during the most grievous times. When her mother passed away, it was Lenora who comforted her as well as when her father passed.

  Lenora cringed at the sharpness in Cinderella’s voice. “But Cinderella, my dear. Thou art destin’d to be queen. T’wast written in the fairy books.”

  The old woman’s pale brown eyes perused her softly. Her white hair was caught in a scarf and her wrinkled face broke into a smile. Lenora’s slightly stooped figure straightened as she tried to convince Cinderella to attend the party.

  “Hark, I doth not care about thy nonsense,” Cinderella burst out. “How dost thou knowest all this… be it, t’is not as though thou art a fairy. Art thee?”

  “Well…,” Lenora began but could not get a word in.

  “If it be true the prince wanteth me, that gent shall has't to cometh to fetch me himself. If it be true I were destin'd to wed the prince, that gent shall find me.”

  “It doth not work like thee bethinks Cinderella ….”

  “I toldeth thee, thou shalt address me by the name Ella… E-L-L-A. Understandest thou me?”

  “Well, Ella. But thou wilt attend the ball, ye aught.”

  Cinderella moved close to Lenora, she towered the woman by about three heads.

  “I has't little interest to impress a sir I hast never seen. If it be true the prince did want a bride, he wouldst not has't hid himself inside the palace all this time.” She started pacing the living room. “Can thee imagine the nerd he wilt be? How like a toad, ugly and venemous he wilt be? Nay. I wanteth a sir who is't easy on the eyes. A sir who is't shall maketh me hot all ov'r, one to maketh mine own heart race.”

  “Cind… hmm … Ella. The prince is…,” Lenora started, but she was cut short.

  “Yond prince hast did cause more ado than aught else. Just the other day, a sir wast beheaded because his livestock startled the prince’s steed.”

  “Yond was not the fault of the prince. T’wast the king's decree,” Lenora replied.

  “Art thee defending this rapscallion of a prince?”

  “Nay. But once the prince marries and passeth the test, he can has't yond law revoked.”

  “I doth not care. I shall marry on mine own terms. I doubt I would ever love a prince who is't hid
es himself hence and hast to beg people to attend a ball to chooseth a bride. Concluded, be it, I wilt fetch the oferacs ere nightfall. Toodlie-doo!”

  Cinderella strode from the room, leaving Lenora’s smiling face behind. Going through the kitchen, she picked up her basket and headed out the door.

  Her home was about a mile from the palace. He father had been a messenger for the previous king. He continued to serve King Hughoc after King Reginald’s death. However, after returning from a royal mission three years ago, her father suddenly passed away. Her mother also worked as an advisor to the queen until she suddenly became ill and died of an unknown ailment. Cinderella had been ten years old when her mother passed. Her father remarried when she was eleven years to a woman whom she never trusted.

  Like so many stepmothers, her father’s new bride tried to make her life hell, but Cinderella was no pushover. When Isolde decided that Cinderella would wear only hand-me-downs from her daughters, they found their clothes slashed to pieces. When Isolde made it known that she would now wear the clothes Cinderella’s mother left her, what she didn’t count on was itching and burning for seven days after donning the second of garment.

  Cinderella giggled as she recalled the incident. Isolde was preparing to attend a party outside the palace. King Reginald was still alive and the marketplace was a place of fun and frolicking. On Saturday evenings, there were parties and concerts held at the palace entrance.

  “Yond is mine own mother’s apparel thou art wearing,” Cinderella pointed out when Isolde appeared. “Those robes belongeth to me.”

  “Wench, thee wont be able to wear of these robes f’r a long time. Runneth 'long, I shall have them.”

  Cinderella watched as her stepmother left to go to the party. Her father was not back from one of his journeys and she was left with her ghastly stepsisters alone that night. While the stepsisters were in bed and the servants in their quarters, Cinderella snuck away to find the pepper pods buds which had a white powdery substance inside. Careful not to get the powder on her, she sprinkled it all over the other garments in her mother’s chest. When Isolde adorned herself in another of her mother’s dresses, the woman experienced the worst case of itching, redness and burning. From thence, Isolde never touched another of Cinderella’s mother’s dresses.